


Colors of the Storm

by IronWoman359



Series: Sanders Sides Platonic Week [4]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 07:19:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16677118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IronWoman359/pseuds/IronWoman359
Summary: Roman makes an effort to make up for his past mistakes with Virgil, and learns about the anxious side's appreciation for a certain color.





	Colors of the Storm

Once upon a time, Roman thought Anxiety hated colors. 

Roman, of course adored colors, and couldn’t stand things that were void of them, claiming they were lifeless and without soul. The fact that the Emo Nightmare insisted on wearing all black, all the time was just one more small problem to add to his ever increasing list of things he didn’t like about Anxiety. Roman swore sometimes that the side only dressed in all black specifically to bother him. The dark and stormy side was a royal pain in Roman’s royal behind, and some days he could barely stand it. It’s like Anxiety was a shadow that was constantly trying to block all the light from Thomas’s life. 

Then, of course, everything changed the day Anxiety… _Virgil_ …had ducked out. 

While Roman had at first been glad to be rid of the presence of all that gloom, he quickly saw how wrong he’d been. His realization that  ~~Anx-~~  Virgil actually made things better for him, not worse, honestly had shaken his whole world, and after Virgil had actually  _rescued_ him? He’d needed some time and distance to process everything. 

As soon as Roman had sunk out of Thomas’s living room, he’d appeared in his own room, locking the door behind him. He’d stayed inside for hours, running over every interaction he’d had with Virgil since the side had started becoming more bothersome…no, not bothersome. Simply what he had  _perceived_ to be bothersome. Roman wasn’t going to let himself think that way anymore. A true prince admitted when he was wrong, and in the case of his relationship with Virgil, he’d clearly been as wrong as he possibly could have been. 

In the weeks that followed, Roman made an extra effort to treat Virgil just as he would treat Logan or Patton, as a full part of the group. He wasn’t the only side to do this either, all three of them seemed to be determined to make up for the mistakes of the past. Patton especially was almost aggressive in his affection, and for once, Virgil didn’t seem to mind the attention. In fact, he seemed to like it. Slowly but surely, it became clear that he was becoming more comfortable around the others.

Then one morning at breakfast, Roman had to do a double take as Virgil came down, his black hoodie draped over a… _purple_  shirt? Roman must’ve been staring, because Virgil gave him a quizzical look as he poured his coffee. 

“You want something, Princey?” 

“I didn’t know you liked purple,” Roman said without thinking, then cringed inwardly. Was he being insensitive again? He’d been trying so hard to make sure Virgil was comfortable, what if he’d said the wrong thing? What if- 

“Uh, yeah…it’s actually my favorite color,” Virgil said sheepishly. 

Roman sighed inwardly with relief. 

“I thought black was your favorite?” he said, trying to keep his tone conversational, not judgmental. 

Virgil shrugged. 

“I like black a lot, but I mean, it’s not technically a color.” He scratched the back of his neck. “It’s like…the absorption of all other color? That’s why I like it, it looks like nothing but actually it has everything…” he stopped, looking towards the others, embarrassment showing on his face. However, Logan and Patton seemed to be in a heated debate in the kitchen, and hadn’t heard the conversation. 

“So, what is it about purple?” Roman asked. Virgil side eyed him, then shrugged again. 

“I dunno. I just like it. And sometimes when you think there’s only black in something, there’s actually more there…a lot of times it’s purple. Like in the shadows in the woods, or in a thunderstorm or something, you know? It…nevermind,” Virgil shook his head, sipping his coffee. He hesitantly glanced up at Roman, as though he expected the creative side to respond with mockery, but found that he was actually grinning from ear to ear. “What?” 

“I had no idea that you liked colors that much!” 

“I…okay?” Virgil still looked confused, but at that moment Logan’s voice called desperately from the kitchen, 

“VIRGIL,  _please_  tell Patton that coffee cake does not constitute a breakfast food simply because ‘coffee’ is in the title!” 

“ _Rooooman_ , please tell Logan that if cinnamon rolls can count as breakfast even though they’re basically dessert, than coffee cake can too!” Patton added, pouting. A sly smile slid across Virgil’s face, and he turned towards the other two sides. 

“I don’t know if we can really say for sure if it’s a breakfast food…” 

“Unless we eat some for breakfast!” Roman finished, catching on. Virgil smirked at him, and Roman smirked back. 

“Great!” Patton said excitedly, dashing to the cabinets to pull out his baking supplies. Logan gave the others an exasperated stare, and Roman fought to keep himself from laughing. He could see Virgil beside him doing the same. 

“By the way, I think the purple suits you,” he said quietly as Patton started mixing flour and sugar together, humming a happy tune. 

Virgil’s smile softened, from snarky amusement to a quiet sheepishness. 

“Thanks,” he murmured back. 

When Roman got back to his room, he pulled out a list of colors that he was working on for Thomas. 

_Red  
Dark Blue   
Pink   
Sky Blue  
 _Full Rainbow__   


And now, one more color to add to the list. Roman conjured up a pen, and wrote in a loping cursive: 

_Purple_

* * *

Roman couldn’t wait to see Virgil with Thomas’s new hair. While he had been a little disappointed that Thomas had only picked  _one_  color from his list, he was excited that it was Virgil’s self-proclaimed favorite. And the purple would go fabulously with Virgil’s black hoodie and eyeshadow, he was sure of it. When the anxious side appeared, he couldn’t have been more pleased with the result, though Virgil seemingly could be. Roman was worried for a moment, before he realized that it wasn’t the color that bothered Virgil, it was the fear of further rejection. Virgil’s hesitant “What? No…” was all the confirmation Roman needed to know that his assumption was correct. Once again, he felt a pang of guilt for being so cold to the anxious side in the past. 

So when the idea struck Roman to change their outfits, he desperately hoped that Virgil would do something. If purple was really his favorite, he should be able to wear it, shouldn’t he? For a moment, Roman was terrified that he’d messed up again, but then Virgil changed and oh yes. Purple had never looked so good, and Virgil had never looked so  _Virgil_. The hair, the shirt, the beautiful homemade jacket, but most of all the small smile that spread across Virgil’s face. 

Roman was so excited for him that he had a hard time forming a coherent sentence.

* * *

“I don’t know Patton, I still feel like it needs more!” Roman insisted. 

He and the paternal trait were hovered over the sweater that Roman had painstakingly designed for Virgil. Purple and black woven together into plaid, with swirling patterns representing winds in a storm all across the front, Virgil’s thundercloud logo emblazoned on the chest. The pattern was a bit busy, but Roman knew that getting Virgil to wear anything other than his hoodie would be a stretch, so he was determined to make the garment fit Virgil’s personality like a glove. 

“Well, it is a Christmas sweater, Kiddo. How about this?” Patton waved his hand over the sweater, and dozens of large gold snowflakes filled the empty spaces along the bottom and on the shoulders. 

“Hmm…I like the gold with the purple…” Roman agreed. “But it doesn’t quite feel like  _him,_  you know?” 

“I guess,” Patton said, studying the design. 

Roman ran his hand through his hair, frowning down at the half-finished sweater. 

 _Think, Roman. You’re the creative side, you’ve got to be able to come up with_ something  _for him…what good are you at being Thomas’s creativity if you can’t even make a simple sweater…_

“Roman?” Patton asked, his voice tinged with worry. Roman blinked, shaking himself out of his thoughts. 

“Sorry, got stuck in a spiral there, Padre,” Roman said with a reassuring smile. Patton didn’t seem totally convince, but he blessedly let the matter drop. 

“Ok. Well, what about this is still not quite right?” 

“I dunno…it’s busy, like his hoodie, we even copied the plaid pattern…it’s his favorite shade of purple…and the wind designs are like his storm cloud…it has to be out there, but also subtle, you know? Like him, like…” Roman trailed off as he remembered Virgil’s words from months before. 

_“Sometimes when you think there’s only black in something, there’s actually more there…a lot of times it’s purple. Like in shadows in the woods, or in a thunderstorm or something, you know?”_

“Wait! That’s it!” Roman cried. He waved his hands over the sweater, and Patton’s snowflakes shrunk in size, moving to border the edges of the plaid stripes. In their place on the bottom black stripe and shoulders, lines of white wove themselves into the shapes of trees, stripped of their leaves for the winter, their stark white offsetting the purple plaid and gold snowflakes. 

“Oh, Roman, it’s perfect!” Patton exclaimed. “Virge is gonna love it!” 

Roman nodded as he admired his work. It was the perfect blend of standing out and subtlety, and Roman knew it would be just right to replace the anxious side’s hoodie for the holiday video. 

* * *

When Patton conjured the finished product for Virgil the next day, Roman couldn’t hold back a grin. It looked  _amazing_  on him, and once Virgil managed to open his eyes, he actually seemed to like it. 

The video itself was something of a struggle for Roman, and he was having a hard time keeping his spirits up, but as the four of them exchanged their secret santa gifts, and he got to see the look on Logan’s face when he got his screenplay and the care in Patton’s eyes when the pasta was shoved into Roman’s arms, he felt his mood lighten a little. He was bringing the large container into the kitchen to microwave it, when he heard soft footsteps behind him. He turned, and Virgil was standing behind him, a somewhat sheepish expression on his face. 

“Hey man…I’m sorry about the whole…singing thing,” he muttered, keeping eye contact with the creative side but rubbing his neck, clearly embarassed. Roman waved him off. 

“Nonsense, Virgil. If anything, I should be apologizing for trying to force you into something when you were clearly uncomfortable. That was not very princely of me, I…” Roman sighed. “I have not been at my best lately,” he admitted. 

Virgil studied him for a moment, then a smile worked its way across his face. 

“Well, that can’t be completely true. This sweater is one of the best things you’ve made in awhile.” 

Roman visibly brightened at the praise. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah…it feels like you put a lot of effort in to make it feel…I dunno, right, I guess.” 

“And….does it?” Roman asked, his usual bravado replaced with an uncharacteristic hesitation.  

“Yeah. Yeah, it does,” Virgil said with a lopsided smile.

Roman’s face slowly spread into a grin. 

“I’m glad,” he said quietly.

“GUYS! Time to light the tree!” Patton called from the living room. The two rejoined the group, and Roman felt a jolt of excitement. He’d designed the lights to go on the tree specially this year, in honor of Virgil’s first time celebrating with them all. 

“Ready?” Patton asked once they all were in the room, and everyone nodded. Patton flipped off the lights, then plugged the strand of lights into the wall. The tree lit up, and Roman heard a sharp intake of breath from beside him. 

The tree was lit up by all the sides’ favorite colors: red, gold, dark and light blue, and a deep, brilliant purple. The colors shone through the dark, illuminating the whole room. Roman glanced beside him, taking in the anxious side’s awed expression, and he smiled to himself. 

He didn’t know how he’d ever could have thought that Virgil didn’t like colors. 


End file.
